The Dark
by Macbeth 7768
Summary: Canas meets an old teacher on the Dread Isle. Giftfic for LordEphidel.


This is a Secret Santa 'fic for LordEphidel. I originally wanted to center it around the morphs (specifically Ephidel and Limstella), but they aren't terribly interesting to write, as they have no emotions (especially not Limstella). I went for Canas and Teodor instead. For the confused, Teodor is the boss of Chapter 19xx in Hector's story, a very difficult chapter to get, which requires leveling Nils up to 7 in Lyn's story, then beating Kishuna in Chapter 19x.

I own none of the characters, locations, or terms used in this fanfiction. All is the property of Intelligent Systems. Enjoy.

* * *

Just outside the ruins that surrounded the Dragon's Gate, several tents stood, pitched in neat rows, with the remains of fires scattered around. Only one fire remained burning, giving some light to the man sitting nearby, reading. The fire glinted off the glass circle in his eye socket as he leaned closer, rustling the burning wood with a sudden burst of magic. _Magic has its grandiose uses_, Canas thought as he returned his thoughts to his book, _but the true master is able to control it, focus it into small uses_.

He looked for his spot in the book, a history of the Scouring, and continued to read. He had just finished a chapter devoted entirely to the history of the ground on which he stood, and the incredible castle nearby. It explained many of his questions, but not all. What was that strange magic seal? It had helped them to be sure, but unknowns sat poorly with the young mage.

Another mage suddenly joined him by the fire. Canas gave a quick smile to the younger man, not really recognizing him, then returned to the book. The next chapter concerned the most famous ex-resident of the Dread Isle, Bramimond, the Enigma, wielder of the Silencing Darkness. The other mage, however, interrupted his study with a curtly stated, blunt question. "You're a dark mage, aren't you?"

Canas bristled at the pejorative label, but kept his tone even as he looked up from his book and addressed the other mage. "Many would call the elder magic I study and use 'dark,' yes," he explained tersely. "Such is, however, an unfair descriptor. They are not inherently evil." He sighed, realizing how defensive and evasive he sounded. He waited for a response, then returned to his book. _The exact nature of the spell known as Apocalypse is unknown, but legends speak of its incredible power. The method of its creation is similarly unknown, but allegedly Bramimond was forced to sacrifice his soul_. Canas shivered; his brothers had all suffered a similar fate simply from immersing themselves too much in the elder magics. Though those elder magics were not evil, they required a kind of invitation, one that could lead to a coma-like sub-existence, in which Canas's three older brothers now "lived".

His morose thoughts halted as the other mage addressed him again. "I'm sorry if I was rude." Canas looked up, regretting his tone earlier. He opened his mouth and started to give his own apology, but trailed off as he saw a woman clothed in white walking towards the ruins. Canas closed the history gently and set it aside, then rose and started to follow the woman. There were only a few women who wore such dress in the entire camp, and one of them was a VIP of sorts, almost captured earlier. As Canas left the fire, he heard the mage behind him. "What is it?"

Canas kept his eyes on the woman as he spoke, quiet but tense. "Find the commanders of the army and ask them to put together a small party. Tell them Canas is following a woman in white and will be leaving a trail." He did not listen for an acknowledgement as he continued into the woods. If the woman really was the VIP, Canas couldn't afford to lose her. He was the only person who had seen her. Almost too late, he remembered to mark a tree. He also had to make a trail for those who would follow them. Who knew where she would go? Canas certainly did not know, though he had a suspicion as he continued to follow, marking dead trees as he passed.

His suspicion was disproved soon enough, as he followed the woman into unfamiliar ruins. This was not the Dragon's Gate. What was it? It seemed built by human hands, but there had been no human residence this extensive on the island since…since before the Scouring. Canas shook his head in awe. The history that might lie within these walls! But more importantly, what was the woman in white doing here? Canas hadn't been able to learn much of his employer's quest yet, but if he remembered she had been trying to leave Valor. Why would she leave the safety of the camp and venture to this ancient human settlement? Did she have some connection to it?

Thankfully, the woman had stopped at a certain spot and stood there quietly. Canas kept an eye on her as he looked around the ruins. The place appeared deserted except for the two of them, but Canas had a suspicion they were not alone. This "Black Fang" clearly had a strong presence on this island. This could be their garrison for all he knew! Canas looked around in worry, but only noticed the dark shape that came from someplace inside the ruin when it was very close to him. When a smooth, eerily familiar voice greeted Canas, the mage nearly screamed in surprise. He held his hands up as though to prepare a simple Flux, but then looked closely at the face. Skin of a similar tone to his own, green hair, and those unmistakably hard eyes…Canas could hardly believe it. "T-Teodor?!"

Teodor (for that is who he was) smiled, though the smile unnerved Canas more than a hard frown would have. "There are some who call me that, yes. I do not remember you, however. If I knew you, you have changed much since I last saw you." He focussed on Canas as if trying to remember him from a past life. Lucidity dawned after a moment. "Canas, son of Niime the Hermit, no?" Canas nodded silently. Teodor continued, "Come, walk with me. I have not seen you in many years." He saw Canas glance back to the woman in white, who still stood transfixed. "The girl will be fine. Come."

Canas followed him uneasily as they walked deeper into the ruins. They walked in silence for a short time before Canas broke the silence. "I had suspected you had come to this island."

Teodor turned in surprise. "Do you mean to say you followed me? For all these years?"

Canas shrugged. He hadn't really, but after Teodor had disappeared he had seen little reason to remain in the mountains. In a way, Teodor's departure had spurred his wish to travel, and he had always hoped to meet his old teacher again. However, had he been searching for him this time? "No, I did not intend to," he answered truthfully, after a moment of thought. "However, I knew you had been interested in this place for its connection to Bramimond, and I believed that any place Teodor thought worth studying was worth studying!"

Teodor laughed. "You flatter me. I have lived here for several years now, and am still no closer to discovering the secret to the Silencing Darkness. I fear there is no way to equal its power without a total sacrifice of one's identity. I have come perilously close, and some times it makes me afraid."

"But that is the nature of elder magic, is it not?" Canas spoke more at ease now. "There is always a danger. That is why the ignorant call it 'dark'. They only know the danger, but not the potential. I have learned so much from studying it, much more than Anima on its own could ever teach me. I feel it could hold the deepest secrets of our world, the secrets of life itself!"

"And the potential for power!" Teodor exclaimed. "Why, there is so much that can be done with the power hidden in these magics, so much only dreamed of! I once dispelled a storm with this power!" He smiled in glee at Canas's astonishment, then suddenly frowned as though distracted. "We have guests. They must have come for the girl. Ninian's come this close…" he muttered to himself before suddenly disappearing with a _crack_.

Canas blinked in surprise. _Who were the new guests?_ He wondered._ Were they…oh. Lord Hector must have collected a search party already. The woman in white must be very important indeed. No, wait, Teodor had known her name, Ninian._ A second later, it hit him. _He knew her name._ He wasn't sure what the significance of that was, but it had to b-

"Hey, you!" A gruff voice interrupted him. A black-cloaked swordsman, his face hidden by a veil, was the speaker. "You're not part of the Fang. What are you doing here?"

The Fang? The Black Fang? Was Teodor with them? "I-I-I followed someone here, and then was speaking with a man in a black robe, who just left me."

"Y'mean Lord Teodor? How d'ye know him?"

Canas gulped. _Lord_ Teodor? "I-he was my teacher m-many years ago. Is he your leader?"

"That he is," the myrmidon shot back. "We've got standing orders to kill intruders. So unless you'd like to get yer throat cut, get out. I'll let you off this once if you never come back."

"U-understood," Canas stammered before slowly turning. He carefully began stocking magic energy, ready to release at a moment's need. One could never be too careful, especially given what he had seen of this Black Fang in the past two days. Behind him, he heard sudden footsteps. He whipped around, releasing a half-charged blast. It caught the myrmidon in the chest and threw him back. He rose quickly, growling and holding his sword in a combat-ready stance. Canas began charging again, preparing a simple Flux. He released it after a moment, watching the black tendrils sink into the ground and emerge where the swordsman had been a second ago.

Canas swore as he watched the spell collapse and waste itself. He kept his eyes on the swordsman, waiting for his next attack. The attack never came, as darkness suddenly blocked him from view. The torches, even the walls appeared to vanish in a smoky fog. Canas took the chance and bolted for a window, hoping he was not too high up as he dove out.

He landed after a short drop, and looked around immediately to see nobody nearby. He sighed with relief, then raised himself to a sitting position. He adjusted his robe briefly, then realized he still was lost. He pulled up his hood reluctantly, hoping it might help him blend in with the Fang, then began walking along the outside wall, glancing in the windows for a way back in. At length he found an open door, and crept inside. Crouching near a curtain, he continued his stealthy way, until he could see a throne, with a dark-robed form atop it. Two others, dark mages like Canas, flanked the man on the throne, standing impassively.

With a start Canas realized that these were unlikely to be so tolerant of his presence, and quickly backed away until they vanished into the haze. Presumably, if he could not see them, they could not see him. He looked around carefully, and suddenly saw dark robes standing over him. Perhaps they were not so blind.

The dark mage grabbed Canas roughly and began to drag him. Canas struggled feebly, but gave up quickly, realizing the hopelessness of trying. He felt himself deposited on the floor, looked up as he heard the dark mage reporting crisply. "There you go, milord. He was right in the room with us!" Canas looked up at the man on the throne, recognized Teodor's eyes glinting in the shadow of the hood.

Teodor smiled. "I'm sorry I left you alone, Canas. I see you found your way here anyway. I thought you might." The smile vanished suddenly. "Tell me the truth, Canas. You're with Marquess Pherae's son and Marquess Ostia's brother, aren't you? Lord Eliwood and Lord Hector? They followed you here," the druid hissed. "You've put me in a problematic situation. It's only going to get worse. They're going to be here eventually, and I don't know if I can fight all of them. You had best hope they will value you as a hostage."

Canas stared in shock. Teodor was going to use him as a hostage? He wasn't even a valued member of the army, like Lady Lyndis when the other Fang member had taken her hostage! "I would be a terrible hostage," he said bluntly. "They hardly know me."

Teodor clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Then you have one other choice. Join me. We can unlock the secrets of Bramimond together."

Canas cocked an eyebrow in disbelief. "Join you? Were this even five years ago I might say yes. But you have changed, Teodor. I can see it in your eyes, your speech…everything about you. You are concerned with nothing but the acquisition of power now. I cannot work, cannot fight, alongside one so obsessed with power for its own end."

Teodor clicked his tongue again and glared at Canas. "Wrong answer, son of Niime." He raised his hands with a muttered incantation. Canas knew what that meant, and quickly scrambled to his feet. He had to get away. Whatever his old teacher had become, it clearly was out for blood. Canas had to admit, he was afraid for his life. "Don't run away from me!" Teodor suddenly roared. Canas turned to see Teodor flying across the room towards him. His hood had blown off by his own forward movement, and his eyes held murder.

He hardly had time to remember old times as Teodor collided into him, knocking him to the ground. He felt an emptiness in front of his eye, swore as he realized he had lost his monocle. He tried to keep the hand off his throat, but could feel a drain on him. Teodor had mastered the magic of Nosferatu? Canas had never even tried the spell, finding the very idea of draining one's life abhorrent. He could feel that it was frighteningly effective, as the world appeared to darken around him.

A gauntleted hand on his shoulder suddenly dragged him to safety. He caught a glimpse of deep blue hair and armor before he stumbled and impacted the floor, and any semblance of lucidity cut out to fuzzy darkness.

* * *

Hector swung his axe again at the mysterious druid, grimaced as he caught empty air. Even his misses were valuable, as he drove his enemy steadily towards the throne. The Shadow Hawk could not evade him forever. Nor could he evade the other combatant who suddenly came around from the other side. Hector smiled as Teodor saw Eliwood and panicked. The two lords then began attacking in concert, until Hector finally connected with a sickening yet perversely satisfying _crunch_. The druid crumpled with a groan, "If only…if only I had had more power."

Hector stepped away from the dead man, then turned to the others behind him. "Priscilla, is Canas alright?"

The noblewoman that he addressed appeared to ignore him for a second as her staff glowed with healing energy. She stood and turned to Hector as she nodded. "He should be fine with some rest. We can get him on my horse to take him to camp more easily."

* * *

"I'm fine," Canas slurred from the ground. He had only been out for a moment, but apparently that was long enough to miss all of the excitement. Which was fine for him; he'd had plenty of excitement already. His vision swam for a moment, before Hector's face became more clearly visible. Not quite clear, though. Canas remembered one thing that had been missing. He found the monocle hanging from his collar, where he had attached it years ago. It had never been needed until now, he realized, but it was good he had it now. He carefully replaced it in his eye socked, squinted to see how it corrected his vision.

He gratefully took Hector's hand to get to his feet, swayed a moment before he made sure he had his balance back, then walked over to see Teodor's body. He looked at it briefly with his head bowed, then shook his head and slowly began to follow the others out of the ruin. He did not know what had happened to his teacher, how he became the twisted man lying dead on the floor, but he would not dwell on that tragedy. He would continue his studies, and hope that he would not succumb.

* * *

Happy Christmas LordEphidel, and a Happy Christmas to all!


End file.
